All My Reasons: A Father's Flag
by starsgoblue52
Summary: Set Pre-IR, TV-verse. A look at of Jeff's personal reasons for the formation of International Rescue. All the usual and some not-so-usual. Multiple chapters to be published.
1. Chapter 1

Jeff looked in the mirror as he straightened his tie. The reflection looking back belonged to a stranger. His blue eyes were faded with fatigue and the grief etched in his handsome features, made him look so much older than his thirty-five years. He couldn't feel anything but disbelief and guilt. Disbelief that today they were going to bury his long-time friend and colleague. Guilt that he had come back from the moon mission without him. Jeff Tracy knew he had failed. As the leader of the moon mission, he should be the one to have made the ultimate sacrifice. Not his second-in-command. Not him.

It was still too raw for him to think about.

A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him back and Jeff looked at the beautiful woman at his side. His beautiful wife, Lucy, gazed lovingly at him with her soulful warm brown eyes. Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed Jeff softly on the cheek and wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace. He returned the hug, holding on her like the life line she was for him. The warmth of her body dissipated the chill that had been with him since the mission. He buried his face in her chestnut hair, the familiar scent comforting him. They stayed that way for a long time.

"It's time to go, Jeff," Lucy said, gently.

"I know," Jeff replied. Reluctantly, he let go of her but couldn't bring himself to move. His feet felt as heavy as his heart.

She touched his face with a sad smile. She understood how he felt just like she always did.

"Let's go," he sighed, drawing himself up with the strength he hadn't had since coming back from the disastrous mission .

He had to do this. It was time to say goodbye.

It was a full military funeral, full of all the ceremony and respect deserving of a Space Agency astronaut that had given his life in the line of duty. It was also a feeding frenzy of reporters scrambling for the best interviews, cameramen angling for the best views, and photographers trying to get the most touching of pictures. Jeff tried to avoid it as he avoided all publicity. He abhorred being in the public eye and guarded his family's privacy vigilantly but sometimes it was impossible to stay out of it. With each successful mission and recognition of his bravery, he had become a press favorite.

He knew there were cameras fixed on them as they had a prominent place in the group of personal mourners. He and Lucy stayed close to the fallen astronaut's widow and young daughter.

Jeff studied his polished shoes during most of the funeral service. He was painfully aware of the flag draped coffin only yards away. He was also aware of a woman's ragged sobs and Lucy's soft whispers of comfort as she held on her friend's hand. He couldn't look at them. He couldn't look at anything. He could only replay the mission over and over in his mind, from take-off, the stop at the ISS, then the flight to the Moon. Where had it started going wrong?

He replayed it over and over in his mind. Equipment failure had left them with little hope for survival. There would be no rescue, no help from the Earth below. No one would be able to reach them in time. They only had themselves to depend on. The plan had been desperate enough, created from ingenuity and the will to survive. Each decision, each command brought them closer to safety. It had worked so why had it gone so wrong? All of them could have made it home. It shouldn't have ended this way.

Something made him look up and for the first time he saw the coffin. Jeff scanned the faces of the mourners. Did _he _have the nerve to show up? Did _he _have the gall to be here, alive and breathing, when the man he killed was being buried? Jeff noted with grim satisfaction that _his _face wasn't one in the crowd. At least _he _had the decency to not show up.

His eyes settled on the coffin, only this time he didn't look away. They all had know the inherent risks with being an astronaut. He could almost hear his friend's voice reminding him of that truth. They had often sat discussing it in the middle of the night over a drink.

The rest of the service was a blur until it was time for the flag presentation. The head of the Space Agency, General Austin, handed the perfectly folded flag to the widow but she began sobbing and couldn't take it. Instead, a little curly-haired girl of four came forward and took the flag. She smiled up shyly at the military officer, who knelt down and hugged her, whispering something in her ear. The little girl nodded and clutched the flag to her chest. Uncertainly, she looked back at the crowd of people.

Jeff felt his throat constrict. Without hesitation, he stepped forward. The little girl smiled again, recognizing him. Still holding the flag tightly with one arm, she reached the other towards him.

He picked her up and held her close as if she was one of his own young sons. "It will be okay. I promise," he murmured.

The little girl nodded, her father's eyes full of trust looking at Jeff from her little face.

It was a promise Jeff planned to keep, not just to his friend's child, but to the children of the future. He wasn't sure how he would do it, but he was determined to save other lives from being lost. He may not have been able to prevent death from winning this time, but the future was wide open. He could and would make the world a better, safer place.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"You shouldn't be here," Jeff growled. It took all of his self control to stop from reaching out and hitting the man that had slipped in undetected and uninvited.

Unfazed by Jeff's threatening expression and posture, Captain James Haydyn held his ground. He was shorter than Jeff by several inches but the rigidity of his body and the clenching of his fists showed he was ready for a fight. "I need to talk to her."

"Don't you think you've done enough? All you _need_ to do is get out of here." Jeff took a step forward, a tower of barely-contained fury. "Now." He poked James in the chest for emphasis.

"I need to talk to her," James insisted stubbornly, his dark eyes flashing as his own anger rose. "I need to explain..."

"Explain what? That you killed her husband because you're a coward?" Jeff snapped. He knew he was close to losing control but at that moment he didn't care. The layers of helplessness and numbness that had covered him like a cocoon the last few days fell away as blind fury took hold.

James' response was immediate and just as ferocious. Like a lion, he jumped forward, jaw jutting. "I knew you wouldn't have the guts to make the decision so I did. We'd _all _be dead if it wasn't for me and you know it, Jeff!

"That's a god damn lie!" Jeff shouted. "We _all_ would have made it if you didn't panic! You disobeyed a direct order because you only cared about saving your own skin, you worthless piece of..." His words were cut off as an explosive punch landed on the right side of his face.

The two men fell at each other, fists flying. Jeff landed a direct blow in the middle of his opponent's face that was so forceful his hand stung. The shorter man recoiled, grasping his mouth as blood spurted. Before Jeff could press his advantage, strong hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him away.

"Let go!" he grunted, attempting to shake the restraining arms away.

"Easy, easy there, sir," a familiar voice cautioned. It was another member of the moon mission, Al Wright, who was as big and strong as an ox. Using his strength, he steered his furious commanding officer away from James, who was being restrained by two others.

Breathing hard, Jeff wasn't finished. He could see his opponent being held back by two others. "Get off , Al!"

"No way, sir," Al said calmly, tightening his grip even more. "He sure ain't worth it. That no-good bastard will get what's due when the brass gets a-hold of him." Al's normally placid expression darkened as he knit his brow. "And when they're done, a few of us would like a word or two with him then. The Major was my friend too and I owe him for what he did for us, sir."

"Jeff! " Lucy's voice cut through all of his rage and anger. Immediately, she was there at his side and her hand on his arm did more to control him than all of Al's brute strength. She frowned and shifted her gaze between her husband and James. "What's wrong with you two?"

Jeff could hear the admonishment in her tone and her normally soft, musical voice was raised in disbelief. His anger dissolved suddenly under her scrutiny and he only felt weary and tired. Losing control of his emotions wasn't something he often experienced and it left him feeling uneasy and somewhat disgusted. It wasn't the time or place to have a fist fight, even if he felt justified in his motives.

Lucy echoed his sentiments. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, brawling like a couple of a drunks in a bar on today of all days."

"I just wanted to see her, Lucy," James protested. He glared at Jeff who looked back at him with undisguised dislike.

"No," Lucy said firmly. "Melanie is exhausted. She hasn't slept in days and today they buried her husband. It's not the right time for this, James." With a last lingering look at Jeff that relayed an unspoken plea for peace, she went over to James, patted his arm, and handed him a bunch of tissues for his bleeding lip. "I know you mean well, but you have to give it some time. Wait for a couple of weeks for her to deal with the shock of all of this. Then I'm sure she'll be ready to see you, okay?"

James grasped Lucille's hand and smiled. "Okay, Lucy."

Jeff bristled at the sight of his wife's hand being held by someone he despised, and the urge to pummel James returned with a vengeance. He waited for Lucy to pull away, but instead she returned the smile and walked the moon mission's co-pilot to the door. She said something softly to James and he smiled at her in return before leaving. Jeff stalked away furiously, hiding in a corner, fortifying his dark feelings with the help of Al, a couple of other mourners, and a bottle of Scotch.

Later that evening, when it was time to go, he felt as dark as the approaching night. Saying their goodbyes, Lucy whisked the car keys away from him before he had a chance to get in the driver's seat. "I'll drive, Jeff."

"Why?" Jeff challenged belligerently, waiting for her to judge the level of his sobriety so he could ignite an argument.

Lucy refused to take the bait. "Because I like to drive, that's why."

They drove in silence. Jeff nursed his feelings of betrayal as he watched the landscape flash by in the window. He knew he was being unreasonable. Being jealous and angry over something so petty as a handshake and a smile was stupid, but he didn't care. She shouldn't have been nice to someone he now considered an enemy.

When they got to the parking lot of the hotel where they were staying, she silently gave him the keys. Determined to punish her, he ignored her for the rest of the night by burying himself in his laptop. He started writing the mission summary that he would present to the review board in the coming weeks but the only progress he made was the first two sentences which he wrote over and over. Sensing the darkness of his mood, Lucy made a few overtures of peace, bringing him a drink, ordering a room service late dinner, offering to massage away the tensions of the day, all of which he made a pragmatic point of refusing. Finally, she left him to his work.

Long after midnight, she appeared again in the doorway to the second small room of their suite. "Are you coming to bed, Jeff?" Lucy asked quietly.

Jeff shook his head by way of reply. Without her regular clothes to disguise it, the slight bulge of her pregnancy was clearly visible through her sheer night gown. He felt a stab of guilt. He knew that he was upsetting her, but he was determined to make a point and couldn't seem to let it go.

She hesitated before coming to him. "What's wrong, Jeff? Why are you angry with me?"

"Don't you know?"

"No," Lucy answered, faltering at the accusatory tone in his voice. "I wish you'd tell me so we can talk it over and go to bed. We're both tired and it's been such a terrible day."

"Go to bed then," Jeff interrupted. "I'm not tired and you're right, you should get some sleep."

Lucy tried a different tactic. "Don't push me away, Jeff Tracy, You're not going to hide from me in that computer." She came forward and reached over his shoulder to snap the laptop shut.

"I'm not hiding. I'm working," Jeff grumbled and pushed her hand away so he could open the laptop again. Lucy shut it again and Jeff promptly opened it. She shut it again and when he reached to open it, she reached down and kissed him. Surprised, he tried to pull away but she held onto him and he knew he was beaten. He could never stay angry at her for long, especially when he knew he was a fool. She had treated Jameslike she would anyone; with innate kindness and grace. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist. For a long time, they sat that way until at last she touched his face where a dark bruise was forming from the punch he had taken earlier. Their eyes met and Lucy studied him, her own expression one of love and empathy.

"What happened up there, Jeff? " she finally asked.

Immediately, he stiffened and the mask he wore since the mission automatically settled into place. Once again, he hardened against her. Gently, he pushed her off his lap and stood up. "You need to get some rest. I want to leave early to fly you back home. I'd like to spend some time with the boys..."

"Jeff, talk to me."

"...and if you don't get some sleep, you'll feel terrible all day. So..."

"Jeff!" Lucy grabbed his arm as he tried to walk by her. He whirled around, the anger at the unfairness of it all, the loss that he blamed himself for, and the grief he didn't want to face erupting to the surface.

"What do you want me to say?" he shouted at his wife. "That Eric's dead? That I just sat there and watched him die?" Furiously, he grabbed the chair in front of the laptop and hurled it against a long mirror on the wall. The glass cracked and shattered, small sharp shards raining down onto the carpeted floor.

Lucy stubbornly stayed in place, concern for her husband winning over fear of being cut by the broken glass. Breathing hard and struggling to gain control, Jeff turned his back to her. "Go to bed, Lucy. Please. I don't want to talk about it." For a couple of long minutes, he stayed that way, waiting for her to leave but she refused to go. Finally, he turned around to face her, a wave of shame washing over him. What was happening to him? He was always calm and cool-headed. Now he had lost control twice in one day.

"I'm sorry, Lucy," he mumbled, unable to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry."

Without a word, she held out her arms and he went to her. As she pressed her face against his, he could feel dampness on her face. Tears. The realization that he had made her cry cut him to core. "Don't cry," he mumbled into her hair. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean it. Don't cry." He could stand anything, anything at all, but his Lucy crying was more than he could take.

"It's not that. I can't stand seeing you this way," Lucy whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She pulled back so she could look up into his eyes. Her brown eyes radiated sadness and there were tears caught in her eyelashes. "I know how hard this is for you. Just promise me that you won't shut me out. You have so many people that love and care about you. Don't be afraid to reach out. You don't have to do this alone."

"I know," Jeff conceded. "It will all be okay. I promise." The words sounded strangely familiar to him. An echo of the many promises he had made over the last few days.

Long after Lucy was asleep, Jeff laid awake in the dark beside her. He stared at the ceiling, not wanting to close his eyes just yet. He wasn't ready for the parade of images that would come nor the dreams he knew would haunt his sleep. He had faced death himself many times and had seen it even more, yet somehow this time it was different. Even so, he was confident that he could deal with it. He could almost see his mother standing at the sink back at the Kansas farmhouse, apron on, her hands always busy with work. Time heals all wounds, she said many times. It had always been true to a certain extent. Time did heal wounds, but it didn't take away the scars that remained.

It wouldn't erase the memories and definitely wouldn't negate the promises he had made. Promises that no matter what, Jeff Tracy was determined to keep. Finally, sleep came and he let it take him. Tomorrow was another day and he would face it with the tenacity and determination that made him the man he was.


	3. Chapter 3

_Six months earlier. Cape Canaveral, Florida_

General Austin sat across from the two NASA head administrators, Dr. Esme Bolden, and her Chief Assistant Administrator, Brian Duncan. The meeting, though informal, was held in the General's spacious office. It was a room personally designed by the head of the Space Agency and some jokingly called it 'The Throne Room." The office's two walls had large picture windows overlooking the Space Program's four main launch fields. The other walls were adorned with framed glass pictures of famous space pioneers and astronomical wonders, as well as memorabilia collected from past missions.

The furniture reflected the larger-than-life personality of the office's owner: big overstuffed leather chairs, ornate glass tables, bookshelves filled with first edition classics, and a large, polished oak desk sitting atop of a polished hardwood floor. Not liking surprises, General Austin had his desk strategically placed in the corner farthest away from the door. It gave him time to size up people as they entered and approached. To most people, the General was an imposing figure. Tall and muscular, he had the look of a man that was used to having his way. He demanded obedience from his subordinates and got it most of the time.

Dr. Esme Bolden, an older African American woman who had been promoted from her position as Head Physicist to NASA's Chief Administrator, was unimpressed and not at all intimidated the General. She sat in front of him, her expression impassive and distant. Her dignified face always held a neutral, open expression, regardless of her real feelings.

Many of her colleagues thought she would make a great poker player as she could be very difficult, if not impossible, to read. Her Chief Assistant, Brian Duncan, was another story. The grey-haired scientist never left anyone in doubt about how he felt. At the moment, he was impatiently tapping of his foot on the floor and scowling as he stared out the window.

"I'm assuming you both read the F.L.O. dossier?"

Dr. Bolden inclined her head slightly. "Yes, General."

Duncan wasn't so polite. "I read it and what I got from it is that you're giving us six months to get the survey mission off the ground? That's very generous of you, General. You're a regular peach." He glared through his round metal glasses at the General, his mouth drawn up in a venomous frown.

General Austin had expected such a reaction and it didn't bother him. He was used to Duncan's outbursts and since he was a civilian it was tolerated. Unconcerned, he leaned back in his chair. "Yes, that's right, Mr. Duncan. I personally feel that six months is a reasonable amount of time to prepare for the survey mission for the First Lunar Outpost. I don't believe there will be any problems."

"You don't, huh?" rumbled Duncan. "Well, pardon me, if I disagree. Why the six month deadline anyway?"

The General ignored Duncan's question and turned to Dr. Bolden instead. "We have the technology and the mission plan in place. All that's needed is to assemble and train the crew. I made some suggestions as to whom I'd recommend."

Dr. Bolden nodded and tapped the computer tablet she held on her lap. Duncan scooted his chair closer so he could see the tablet's screen. He quickly scanned over the list of names and snorted. "Problem number one. Jeff Tracy already tendered his resignation. Problem number two, so did Eric Crawford. They're leaving next month to work on a business venture together."

"I think they can be convinced to hold off until after this mission," the General calmly asserted.

"I'm glad you think so," Duncan grunted. "Maybe you can give it a go convincing them."

General Austin smiled, showing a line of white teeth. "I plan to do just that, Brian. I'm having dinner with Colonel Tracy tonight."

"What about Major Crawford?" Duncan challenged. "I know for a fact he's getting ready to leave. He's already made plans to move his family next week."

The General waved a hand dismissively. "When Tracy decides to take the mission, so will he. Everyone knows where one goes, the other follows."

Dr. Bolden shifted in her seat, speaking for only the second time since the meeting began. "I hope you're right, General. I can think of no one I'd rather have leading this mission than Colonel Tracy."

General Austin smiled at her. "I'm right. You'll see. I guarantee that Jeff Tracy will never be able to resist another trip to the moon."

"I think I've had enough for one day." Eric Crawford brushed his messy blondish-brown hair out of his eyes. The dirty work gloves he wore left a dark smudge on his forehead. His dark gray t-shirt was covered with grime and water stains and the knees of his jeans were muddy.

Jeff set a cardboard box down on the neat pyramid of boxes that had been stacked in the middle of the room. He sat down in a worn armchair and sighed as he sank down in the lumpy cushions. "Why stop now? We've got plenty of time yet."

Eric tossed a handful of tools in an open tool box on the floor. His dark blue eyes mirrored the weariness he felt from spending most of the day working on the plumbing in basement of his rented house. "I think I broke the Guinness World Record for the fixing the most leaky pipes today." He grimaced and shook his head. "And also for seeing the most snakes."

Jeff chuckled. "Why do think I volunteered to pack? I knew that a wet basement in Florida would be like a snake scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark."

Eric grinned. "Some friend you are. I could have had been lying in a puddle of water, dying slowly from a deadly poisonous bite while you packed up Mel's three thousand romance novels, her thirty-two yoga mats, and her magic crystals."

"Don't worry," Jeff assured from the chair. "I knew you were alright by the number of times I heard you cursing. Think you broke another world record there too. Who would have know you were a master of profanity? I don't think I've heard you swear more than once the entire time I've know you."

Eric laughed. "Here I thought the only audience I had was the pipes and the snakes. I didn't know that you had your ear on the floor, Jeff. You want a beer?"

"Nope." Jeff put the footrest up on the chair and laid all the way back. "I'll take this chair though if you don't want it."

"Ha." Eric leaned up against the boxes. "In your dreams. That chair is the only thing I care about taking. Nothing else matters as far as my stuff goes."

Jeff glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize it was already five. I've got to go meet General Austin at six. I guess I should think about getting ready."

"So what does the old boy want from you?" Eric called as he headed to the kitchen to get a beer out of the refrigerator.

Jeff pondered the question. What did General Austin want from him? To say goodbye and good luck? Somehow he doubted that. The General never had the time or interest for such things as far as that went. With how busy Jeff had been helping Eric move his family and making plans for their business, he hadn't really thought about the invitation from the Space Agency General.

"I have no idea what he wants," Jeff admitted when Eric reappeared with beer in hand. "I guess I'll find out."

Eric took a gulp from the bottle. "Yeah, well, don't let him talk you into doing anything you might regret later on. You know how he is when it comes to getting what he wants."

Jeff snorted, dismissing his friend's concerns with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry, Eric. I have no intention of being talked into anything. Four more weeks and we'll be heading out into the wild blue yonder of the business world."

Lost in thought, Jeff piloted the small plane instinctively. He was so used to making the trip back to their home in Kansas that he was convinced he could do it in his sleep, and indeed, he wondered if sometimes did just that. In the seat behind him, Lucy was curled up with a blanket. Fatigue had finally caught up to her about an hour into the flight and she had fallen asleep. They hadn't talked about what happened the night before and he was glad. He just wanted her to let it go and fortunately, she hadn't brought it up. She had been strangely quiet that morning and Jeff suspected that she had the starting of a migraine even thought she didn't say it.

The flight home left him time to think and remember. He was tempted to turn on the radio or listen to music but he didn't want to disturb Lucy. Instead, he listened to the hum of the engines and the silence that hid behind that familiar noise. No matter how he tried to keep his mind completely clear and empty, thoughts kept intruding. At first he fought it and pushed them away, but gradually he gave up as the images forced themselves into his mind's eye. Jeff could hear his own words to his friend echoing in his head. _Four more weeks and we'll be heading out into the wild blue yonder of the business world. _

Yet, here it was six months later and it hadn't happened. Everything had changed. Eric was gone and what was left of his body was in Arlington National Cemetery. Eric was dead and Jeff was alive, flying home, wishing he could go back and take a different road. He felt a stab of pain and wished he could just forget it and purge his mind of all memories.

The problem was it wouldn't go away and it wouldn't leave him alone. He relived the last minutes of the mission over and over. In his mind, he could hear Eric quietly reciting bits and pieces of poetry as he worked desperately to repair the flight module's damaged photon reactor. It was a habit that the engineer had when he was doing something that required concentration. Up until that very moment, Jeff hadn't thought about what poem Eric had been saying quietly to himself as he fought a losing battle to contain the chain reaction that had burned through more and more power cells of the reactor. Without the reactor, there would be no way for them to escape from the surface and get back into space.

_Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both..._

"Hurry up, Eric, we've lost thirty-five percent of the sector A!" James shouted into his headset.

_And be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as long as I could..._

_"_Forty-seven percent!"

_To where it bent in the undergrowth..._

"Fifty-nine percent. It's accelerating!"

_Then took the other just as fair and having perhaps the better claim..._

"Sixty-six percent! Jesus Christ, it's going to spread to sector B!"

_Because it was grassy and wanted wear though as for that the passing there_ _had really worn them about the same_..

"Seventy-five percent! Hurry, hurry...!"

_And both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden back..._

"Eight-eight percent!"

_Oh that I kept the first for another day. Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back..._

"We've lost it! It's gone! It's moving to Sector B! We're all going to die!"

"Shut up, James! Just shut up! We can still make it!" Jeff snapped at his co-pilot, irritated by the man's lack of self-control.

Jeff could see the monitor showing the ongoing destruction of the reactor's power cells. He could see death reaching for all of them, yet Eric's quiet voice went on as he struggled on with the reactor, battling the malfunction with all the skill he had, refusing to give up.

_I should be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence..._

James was falling apart, putting his hands over his head, screaming in fear. Then Al pushed past to voice the monitor's erratic readings. His wide stoic face was white but deadly calm.

"Fifteen percent on B, Boss."

_Two roads diverged in a wood and I took the one less traveled on._

"Thirty-five percent..."

_And that has made all the difference._

Silence. Al's whoop of exhilaration as the reactor's monitor gauge showed a slowing of the demise of the power cells. "Thirty-seven percent and holding."

"Hurry up and get back in the airlock, Eric! We have to launch immediately before the reaction starts again and we lose another sector. If we lose B, we'll never get off the ground." Jeff looked at the screen that showed where the engineer had been working outside on the reactor. He could see his friend jumping and waddling as quickly as the low gravity and his bulky space suit would allow. In the background, the moonscape which he had once thought so beautiful was now savage and menacing. The pale gray dirt, the craters and the mountains...could have been the only witnesses to their deaths.

"I'm coming." Eric's strained voice came over the transmitter.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff was startled to see James hand poised over the launch button. "Do not launch, James," he said slowly, looking his pale, shaking co-pilot in the eye. "That's an order."

"Wait for me, Jeff. I'm coming. I'm almost there," Eric's breathless voice drifted over the channel as he reached the airlock door.

James defiantly met Jeff's eyes before a flick of his finger brought the launch rockets roaring to life.

It was a sound and a sight Jeff would never forget. Helplessly, he watched as the powerful force from the launch thrusters hit Eric, throwing him backwards several hundred feet. He bounced head over heels over the barren ground before the moon's weak gravitational pull let space have the astronaut. The still form floated slowly upward into space. Horrified, the occupants of the module watched in silence. The suit was noticeably charred and damaged, long pieces of white material hung in strips, softly floating in the weightlessness of space.

Eric was dead. Jeff knew it but it couldn't be true.

It couldn't be true. The motionless body continued floating in the silent vacuum. The image was seared into his brain.

Jeff couldn't stand the memory and he forcefully pushed back into some dark corner of his brain. He wasn't going to think about it anymore. The morning sun shone through the cockpit's windows and the sky was dazzlingly blue and beautiful. Jeff slid his sunglasses on to dim the view. Numbness settled over him again comfortably like a blanket.

Two more hours until they were home and for once in his life, he would be glad when he could get out of the air and back on solid ground. The sky had become his enemy and he didn't have the strength to face it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After landing at the Wichita airport, they had made the ninety mile drive in relative silence. Jeff was concerned about Lucy as there was no doubt in his mind that she was definitely in the clutches of one of the migraines she dreaded so much. She kept telling him she was okay and not to worry, but the darkness under her eyes and her uncharacteristic silence belied her words of assurance. Even worse was the fact she made no comment as he drove way over the speed limit once they left the busy city roads for the open interstate. Usually she would tease him about being the first man to break the sound barrier with an automobile, but this time there was only silence as she laid back in her seat, eyes closed tight against the light with a look of abject misery on her face.

"Almost there," Jeff assured as they made the last turn onto the dirt road. The farm was only a mile ahead.

Lucy didn't open her eyes but managed a smile. "Thank you for breaking the speed limit all the way from Wichita, Jeff."

Jeff smiled. It wouldn't be a homecoming without that. His foot eased off the gas as he navigated down the dirt road, avoiding pot holes and a big black and white cat that slinked across the road. Rows of corn, green leaves fluttering in the breeze, stretched out on each side of the road as far as the eye could see. Eventually the corn gave way to fields of wheat. He slowed and move the car over to the very edge of the road to avoid a slow moving tractor. The driver waved at him and Jeff recognized him as Kenny, the man that helped out on the farm. Riding beside him in the tractor cab, a young boy excitedly squirmed, waving at them.

Jeff stopped alongside them and smiled up at his second-oldest son. The five year old was almost bursting with excitement. Jumping off the tractor, the boy ran up to the car. "Dad!" he shouted as he opened the car door and threw himself at Jeff.

The young's boy exuberance was catching and he hugged the child tightly. Virgil started to clamber over to his mother but Jeff held him back. "Hold up there, Virgil, your mother's got a headache..."

Lucy opened her eyes and held her arms out to the little boy. "I'm okay, Jeff. Come here, Buster..." Happily, Virgil climbed right over Jeff and settled onto Lucy's lap. Immediately, he started telling her all about how he helped out on the farm the last couple of days. The excited, childish chattering continued even after they had pulled up to the old white farm house and Lucy walked hand-in-hand with Virgil up the shady stone walk to the front porch.

Jeff stayed in the car for a while. Leaning against the back of the seat, he listened to the whirring insects and chirping birds. Far off he could hear the lowing of a cow. He was glad to be home. There was something eternally soothing about the farm on the east Kansas plain where he had grown up. The familiar white farm house with the shagbark Hickory trees shading the green shingled roof was like the guiding beacon of a lighthouse. No matter how far he went away, he always came back to this place.

As unchanging as the farm was, there were always some improvements each time he came home. Grant Tracy was an enterprising kind of farmer who was always willing to try a new venture. He was a shrewd when it came to knowing what would turn a profit and what was best left alone. The last couple years had seen the addition of two long barns housing turkeys and cattle, both of which supplemented the farm's income nicely.

Jeff glanced at his watch. It would be time for lunch soon and he wasn't ready to go into the house just yet. He slowly got out of the car and walked towards a much larger aluminum building that housed all the farm's equipment. The sun's heat on his head and shoulders pulled him to a stop. Looking upward, he closed his eyes and let it soak into him. He could still feel the chill of space but it wasn't as oppressive. He could hear the acres and acres of wheat rustling in the breeze and he felt some tension ease away.

He opened his eyes and looked warily at the barn. Maybe Grant wouldn't be in there. After all, tinkering with the machinery was something the old farmer liked to do when the weather was poor or daylight ran out for other work. Jeff just wanted to go in and visit the Tiger Moth by himself. To his relief, Jeff found that the only company he had was a jacked-up tractor with a missing tire and a dismantled grain driller.

Once his eyes adjusted to the dark interior, Jeff made his way to a door behind the farm equipment. He hesitated before reaching for the handle. As the door opened, he blinked in surprise as light flooded out from the florescent ceiling lights. He could hear the sound of children's voices. His oldest son, Scott, sat in the front of the yellow and red Tiger Moth biplane, while the white-blonde head of three-year old John was just visible behind him in back cockpit.

"What do you think you're doing in here?" Jeff voice echoed like thunder in the small hangar. Feeling dark and terrible, he looked one of the thunderheads that rolled along the sky on a humid summer afternoon.

Both boys jumped. The younger boy's blonde head disappeared from view and he slid out of sight as he hid on the floor of the back cockpit but Scott didn't move. His blue eyes were wide with unconcealed horror at being discovered in the forbidden plane by their father.

"How many times have I told you not to come in here?"

"Lots of times, Father. Probably so many times we couldn't count that high," Scott said, his voice shaking.

"Get down here." Jeff pointed to the ground in front of him. "Now!"

Scott scrambled down from the plane and ran over to the exact spot where his father pointed. Hands behind his back, he stared at the ground.

"John, come down here." Jeff waited, but there was no sign of movement. "John! When I tell you something you better listen!" He marched over to the Tiger Moth and roughly retrieved the reluctant boy who promptly started to wail and struggle. As soon as Jeff set him on the ground, he ran to Scott for comfort. The older boy placed a protective arm around his younger brother.

Scott took a deep breath before he started to speak, his voice still tremulous. "It was my idea to play pilot, Father. Johnny don't know about not coming in here. You can feed me bread and water and lock me up in the cellar for a year but don't you yell at him." Gaining courage, Scott stomped his foot on the ground. "Don't you dare!"

Jeff took a step backward, amazed at the open defiance in his son. This kind of behavior couldn't be tolerated. If he let it go, then it would just evolve into rebellion and then insubordination, and that in turn could lead to... He stopped himself, feeling confusion rising. Insubordination? Who was he thinking about? His sons or his men? Suddenly, he felt ashamed as he looked at his boys. They had disobeyed him, but he wasn't sure where parental justice began and where his anger at the way the mission went wrong ended. He knew one thing for sure. They were clearly terrified of him, even Scott with his desperate attempt at protecting his younger brother.

"Go on, boys. Lunch is ready." Grant Tracy had come in undetected and Jeff wondered just how long he had been standing there.

Scott and John wasted no time in heading to the house, leaving the two men alone. Jeff kicked at the ground before he realized that he was acting just like he used to as a teenager when his father confronted him about something. Grant held out a hand, rough from the harsh daily farm work. "Son."

"Father." Jeff took the offered hand and shook it, looking his father in the eye. Expecting to see disapproval or disappointment, he was surprised to see only concern and something else he couldn't quite identify.

Grant broke the silence. "I told the boys they could play in here until you came home."

Jeff glared at his father, suppressing an urge to shout at him. "You know I don't want them fooling around in here."

"They weren't doing any harm."

"That's not the point. When I tell them to do something, I expect them to obey me."

"They will," Grant said. "Those kids have been through enough this last week. I thought this would be something nice for them to remember during the time when everyone was saying that their father wasn't coming back from the Moon." He wiped his hands on his jeans. "Not alive anyhow."

Jeff wasn't sure what to say. He suddenly knew what he had seen in his father's eyes. Relief.

"Your mother was hoping you'd stop in the house first to see her, but I figured I knew where'd you gotten off to." Grant put his hands in his pockets and looked impassively at the plane. "Some things don't change."

Jeff kicked at the dirt again. "Yeah, some things don't."

They stood in silence in the shadow of the Tiger Moth, close to each other physically but both could feel the distance widening between them again.

Grant walked away first, heading for the hangar door. "When you're ready, come on down to the house for lunch." Pausing, he called over his shoulder. "Don't take too long either. You know your mother doesn't like coming up here."

Jeff was alone again. With only his thoughts to keep him company, he climbed up into the cockpit of the Tiger Moth. He slid down in the seat and studied the metal framework of the hangar's ceiling. He knew he should head back to the house but he wasn't ready to face the family as a whole just yet. The shame for his severity dealing with Scott and John still stung. This was not how he pictured his homecoming and seeing them for the first time. He had come so close to never seeing any of his family again and here he was lashing out at them. He would have to make it up to them. Yes, he would, he decided. He would find a way.

The fluttering of wings and a soft cooing of a pigeon reminded him of the passing time. The bluish grey and white bird landed on the top wing of the tiger moth and cocked his head at him. "Leave me alone," Jeff said. He waved a hand at the curious bird, hoping to scare it away. Instead, the pigeon sidled down the wing closer to him.

"Stay if you want to then, bird brain. I'll go." Jeff climbed out of the cockpit. He knew he had to go back or his mother would come find him and he had caused enough hurt already. She disliked the hangar, and even more she hated the sight of theTiger Moth. There was no use in bringing up bad memories just because he didn't feel like talking or socializing.

Squaring his shoulders, he took one last look at the Tiger Moth. It hadn't given him the usual comfort or solace he expected. It only made the darkness in his soul worse. He had to find a way to find peace somehow. Instinctively he knew that if he didn't, the failed moon mission had the potential to destroy him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Jeff had to lean down so that his mother could properly hug him. The Tracy men weren't overly demonstrative with each other, but Ruth Tracy was never lacking with love and affection and she wasn't afraid to show it. She never left anyone in doubt about how she felt about them. Right now, her happiness at seeing her son showed by the shedding of a few tears, a lingering hug, and a kiss on the cheek. Jeff knew that she could never quite accept the risks he took as an astronaut and had been relieved when he had resigned from NASA. When he rescinded that resignation so that he could command the FLO mission, she had been against it. Even though she wasn't superstitious, she had been convinced that something would go wrong.

She had been right, Jeff thought wryly. Something went more than wrong. Still he had come back home again and that was enough for her, even if it wasn't enough for him.

"Where's Lucy?" Jeff asked when his mother let go of him.

"She's all tuckered out and was feeling poorly. I thought she should go on up to bed but she was dead set on seeing all the boys so I sent Dad to get Scott and Johnny." She looked apologetically at him, knowing where and why he had gone before coming to the house.

Jeff smiled and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek to assure her that he wasn't angry with her.

Ruth patted his arm. "You sit down now and eat. You must be hungry for some real food and we've got lots of it."

She bustled around the kitchen, setting a basket of rolls on the table as she took her place across from Grant. Scott and Virgil sat next to each other, their heads together as they whispered conspiratorially. Jeff took a seat alongside of Grant, who had John on his knee. Reluctantly, John climbed into the chair next to Jeff, looking at his father warily with his big blue eyes. Scott looked nervously at his father too then bent his head quickly when Grant said a quick prayer over the food.

The food was delicious but Jeff didn't have much of an appetite. He ate to please, rather to satisfy hunger. When lunch was over, Ruth shooed them out of the kitchen. Jeff went upstairs to check on Lucy and, finding her asleep, went outside to find his boys. He wasn't the kind to procrastinate and wanted to make amends with his oldest and youngest sons.

He found them on the lawn husking corn under the shade of the trees. Scott and Virgil worked side-by-side, tearing off layers of dark and light green leaves to reveal the fresh silver and gold kernels underneath. John ran back and forth, gathering the discarded husks and corn silk and heaping it into a messy pile.

"Mind if I help?" Jeff asked. Virgil smiled but Scott hesitated. He whispered something in Virgil's ear and Virgil nodded.

"Sure, Dad. You can help," Scott said. "We'll split it four ways then."

"Split what four ways?"

"Grandma gives us a dollar for each dozen we do," Virgil explained.

"Oh." Jeff sat down cross-legged next to Scott. He picked up an ear of corn and started working. "You boys can have my share. I'll settle for taking some canned corn back with us when we head home."

Scott and Virgil conferred again and Scott nodded. "Okay, Dad. That's fair."

They worked in silence for a long time and Jeff was at a loss of words of what to say. Johnny forgave him quickly, smiling each time Jeff loaded his arms with husks, teasing him by putting some of the corn silk on top of his head. The three year old was a child of few words, so the shy smile said all it. Scott on the other hand was a different story.

_Never be afraid to say you're sorry._ Lucy often said those words to him, usually when they were making up after a quarrel. He could never make her understand that it wasn't that he was afraid of saying the word. He could admit when he was wrong. It was the word itself. Sorry always sounded so trite and meaningless. To him, the word didn't convey true sincerity. Then again, it did sound sincere enough when some people said it. Like Lucy or his mother. Now, Grant...he never said sorry either. A thought occurred to Jeff as he picked some stray pieces of corn silk off an ear. Maybe Lucy was right, maybe he _was _afraid of saying sorry. Afraid _he_ would sound trite and meaningless as others did, so he rarely said it. Just like his father.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Scott," he blurted out impulsively, bothered at the thought that he and Grant were alike. "I didn't know that Grandpa said you could play in there."

The boy's hand stopped as he tore open an ear of corn and he looked at his father, amazed. "It's okay, Dad. You told us lots of times not to go in there." A frown tugged at the corner's of Scott's mouth. "You shouldn't have yelled at Johnny though. He's only little and he don't know any better. He was just following me like he always does. You scared him."

Jeff felt chastised by the words. "I shouldn't have done that but you shouldn't have shouted at me either."

Scott chewed his lip. "I know. Grandpa talked to me about that before lunch. I'm not sorry I said what I did, just sorry how I said it."

Jeff held back a smile. It was probably the most convoluted apology he had ever heard but he had to admire Scott's courage for standing up for what he believed and his desire to protect his younger brother. "Well, son, if you can forgive me then I can forgive you." He held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Scott slowly smiled and took his father's hand and shook it. Jeff laughed and pulled the boy into a hug. Scott returned the hug and Virgil and John, both giggling, piled on top of both of them.

For the first time since he had come back from the mission, Jeff felt a surge of happiness cut through the darkness that had taken such a hold of him. It was like a beacon of light and he grasped at it mentally. His family had always been his lifeline when troubles came and now was no exception.

I'm a lucky man, thought Jeff. Lucky to be alive and lucky to have my family. There was no doubt in his mind that he would get through this dark time. It would be difficult, but he could do it. That much he knew for certain.

The full moon hung in the night sky, impossibly huge as it rose over the horizon and cast its soft light over the corn field. After tossing and turning for a couple hours in the bed beside his wife, Jeff decided to take a walk. He loved the solitude of the night and had gone on similar night treks since he was a teenager. Since spending the afternoon with his boys, he felt a little more like himself. He felt stronger and his mind became clearer as he walked. Even the sight of the moon didn't cut as deeply. He could actually look at it without turning away and shutting himself off.

After walking a mile up the dirt road, he came back and settled down on the porch swing. He knew he should head back to bed but he still wasn't sleepy. A creak of springs from the screen door, made he look over. Lucy stepped out onto the porch with her bare feet and a silk robe wrapped around her. She looked beautiful in the moonlight and Jeff couldn't help but thinking again how lucky he was to have her in his life. He knew he was a hard man to love, but she loved him just the same.

Lucy smiled at him and motioned to the moon. "Do you two want to be alone?"

Jeff's love for space and the moon in particular was a long-standing joke between them. Jeff patted the spot next to him on the porch swing. "Nope. I'd rather spend some time with you."

Lucy sat down and together they looked at the moon. The silence was comfortable and he put his arms over her shoulders and automatically she leaned against him.

"Do you feel better?" Jeff finally asked.

Lucy looked up at him. "Do you?"

"I think so." Jeff sighed. "I'd say I'm sorry but you know how I feel about that."

"Apology accepted." Lucy took his hand, tracing his rough fingers with her soft ones. "You know, I think your parents should have called you Atlas, not Jefferson."

"Atlas? What kind of name is that for a great guy like me?" Jeff teased.

Lucy smiled and poked him in the ribs. "It's the perfect name for a guy like you...somebody who thinks he has to hold the world on his shoulders."

"I don't have to hold the world on my shoulders, just my family's well-being and the jobs I'm responsible for doing," Jeff said lightly. The moon seemed to burn even brighter as it moved across the sky.

Lucy sat up so she could look into his eyes. "I know you don't believe it, but what happened to Eric wasn't your fault."

It was like touching an open wound. Jeff gritted his teeth, trying to relax. "Everyone keeps telling me that."

"Maybe because it's true."

He shook his head. "It's not true. I am responsible for my men and the mission. I know that the reactor failure was out of my control. I know that James was out of my control too. He had been for a long time and I knew he shouldn't have been there with his lack of discipline and self-control. I shouldn't have let the fact that we were friends at one time influence my judgment about him." Jeff paused, trying to keep himself steady. "Eric shouldn't have been there either."

Lucy didn't back down. "Why? He wanted to go, and being an adult, he made his own decisions."

"He wouldn't have even gone if it weren't for me."

"Maybe but he still made his own decision. He knew the risks and he accepted them. Why can't you see that and stop blaming yourself?"

"Because I'm alive and he's not," Jeff snapped, trying to pull away from her.

"That's true," Lucy agreed. She stubbornly held onto his hand, refusing to let him go. "You're alive and Eric's not. He wouldn't want you to be blaming yourself. You know if he was here he'd give you a kick in the ass and tell you to get on with your life."

Jeff exploded. "For Christ's sake, Lucy, the dirt on his grave hasn't even settled. Do you think I'm just going to forget and move on just like that?"

"Of course not." Lucy's voice was calm. "I don't expect you to ever forget your best friend, but grieving and taking a guilt trip around the world are two different things."

"I know that." Jeff was so tense he felt like he could crack into pieces. 

"And I know you, Jeff Tracy," Lucy squeezed his hand. "I know how you're taking this to heart and I know what happens when you do that. Do you know why I'm giving you a hard time?"

Jeff smiled despite himself. "Because you're a tyrant and a bully?"

"No." Lucy laughed. "Though I guess I am sometimes. " She shivered in the cool night air and pulled her robe closer around her. Automatically, Jeff put his arm around her and pulled her back to him.

"I don't want you distancing yourself from us," she continued. "Dr. Bolden thinks that..."

Jeff stiffened. "You've been talking to Dr. Bolden about me." It was an accusation rather than a question.

"Yes, she spoke to me after the funeral."

Jeff frowned. "My personal life is none of her business."

Lucy shook her head, exasperated. "You are the most defensive, stubborn man I've ever met except for your father maybe."

Jeff immediately bristled. Her words infuriated him because he knew they were true. "I'm not like him, Lucy. That's probably the worst thing you could say to me."

"That's a stupid thing to say. Your father is a good man even if he is an emotional cripple."

"I don't want to talk anymore." Jeff moved to get off the swing but she held tight to him.

"You're not retreating this time, Colonel." Lucy said firmly. "Your family needs you and I'm not going to let you go this time."

Jeff felt a desperation to escape. He hated being backed into a corner, especially by the woman he loved. She knew all his tricks, his methods of dealing with people, and his hard military exterior which usually commanded instant obedience didn't intimidate her in the least. "What do you want from me, Lucy? I've worked hard to give you and the boys everything I could. I..."

"All we want is you, Jeff." Lucy tried to meet his eyes but he looked away. "That's it. Not money, not a bigger house, not _things._ Just you."

He could hear her voice tremble. Lucy was always more emotional when she was pregnant and this time was no exception. He knew she was afraid he would retreat into himself, much like he did once in the past when they had first married. It was no wonder she had that fear since the situation was much the same. An unexpected loss of a family member had sent him into a tailspin. He had retreated into himself and pushed her away. As much as he loved her, he couldn't let go of the guilt and grief and it had consumed him. At his lowest point, they had separated for a while. It was only when he had found out she was pregnant with Scott that he had come to his senses and come home.

He softened. "You've got me already. You and the boys mean everything to me. I promise I'm not going to fall apart this time. I keep my promises don't I?"

"Yes. You keep your promises." Lucy nodded and rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "But not just to me."

"What do you mean?" Jeff asked slowly. Surely, she couldn't know. He thought of Dr. Bolden suspiciously. Had she said something to Lucy?

"I know you're going." Lucy voice was soft. "You should have told me from the start."

She knows, Jeff thought bleakly. She knows that I'm going back to the Moon to finish the mission. He spoke slowly. "I would have told you sooner only I didn't want you to worry."

"If you really didn't want me to worry, you wouldn't go."

"I have to go," Jeff insisted. "The job isn't done."

Lucy shrugged his arm off of her shoulders and stood up. Her chestnut hair glowed in the moonlight and he knew by the stiff way she stood that she was finally angry with him. "Let someone else do it for once. I'm asking you not to go, Jeff. You've already given your pound of flesh to NASA. It's enough!"

"I have to go."

"You don't," Lucy said, hotly.

"Yes, I do," Jeff snapped back at her. "I have to go and I'm going no matter what. Case closed."

He could feel the waves of anger radiating from her like solar flares from the sun. That was the thing about Lucy, Jeff thought. It took a lot for her to reach the boiling point, but when she did, a volcanic eruption couldn't match the strength of her fury. She was silent for a full minute and when she finally spoke, her voice was calm and even. "Fine, Jeff. Go. But know that we won't be there when...or if you get back."

Jeff gaped at her. "You don't mean that."

"I never meant anything more in my life," Lucy said, unwavering.

Jeff couldn't believe what she was saying. He stared at her, hurt mingling with anger. "It's not fair for you to do this to me."

Lucy stomped her foot, reminding Jeff of the way Scott had reacted to him in the hangar. "Not fair? It's not fair for _you_ to do this to _us_!"

"I'm not going to change my mind," Jeff insisted stubbornly.

"I know," Lucy conceded, turning away from him and heading toward the screen door. "Neither am I."

Without another word she went into the house, the screen door slamming shut.

Jeff jumped to his feet heading towards the screen door. _Go after her_, a desperate voice in his head said. He pushed the thought away. She was the one that wanted to leave him. He wasn't going to go begging to her, that was for sure.

He stopped, balling his fists. This wasn't how he wanted things to go. She couldn't really be serious with her threats of taking the boys..._his _ boys and leaving him. He was doing his duty and she should understand that. It should matter to her as much as it did to him. Did she want to be married to someone who didn't stick by his commitments? A man who didn't finish what he started? Did she want their boys to have a coward for a father? She claimed to love him so much but she couldn't. Not really. Not if she was going to make him choose like this.

Angrily, he smashed his fist into one of the porch's unyielding support beams. Ignoring the pain in his hand, he jumped from the top porch step to the ground. Stalking into the darkness, his anger at the unfairness of Lucy's demand burned stronger than the pain in his heart.

When he was far away from the farmhouse, he stopped and glared at the moon. It was as if the pale orb was mocking him and at that moment, he knew he was making the right decision to go back and finish what he started. Then he could stop. Then Eric's death wouldn't be meaningless. His resolve molded into a white hot steel, forming an impenetrable barrier.

If she can't accept my decision, Jeff thought darkly. Then to hell with her.

_Thank you to everyone who has written reviews. Your words of encouragement mean a great deal to me! It's going to be a few days-probably next week sometime-before I update again as I have to finish a story for a challenge and the deadline is getting closer and closer. Thanks again and keep writing!_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Something was tickling Jeff's ear. He shook his head and took a drowsy swipe at it. The sun shone directly on his face through a small square window high in the hay barn. Squinting, he finally couldn't stand the brightness and forced himself to sit up. Opening his eyes, he saw Virgil and Scott sitting together on a hay bale. "Good morning, boys. Isn't it a little earlier for you to be up?"

"No," Scott answered. "Grandpa says anyone that is still in bed when the sun comes up on a farm is either sick or lazy."

Jeff shook his head and smiled. How many times had he heard his father say the very same thing to him when he was young? He glanced at his watch. O-seven hundred. Late by farm time. He had intended to help Grant with the morning routine, but he'd have to hurry now if he wanted to help out.

Stretching, he rubbed his neck trying to relieve the stiffness. I'm getting too old for this, he thought. Sleeping in the hay was something he'd sometimes when he was younger but now, heading on two decades of past injuries and accidents, the activity left him aching and sore. For a brief time, he wondered what he was doing out there but then he remembered the night before. The fight. He groaned and leaned forward. He was such a fool sometimes. Instead of calming Lucy and defusing the situation, he had pressed the detonation button and fired all the missiles.

"Grandma says breakfast is ready," Scott said, chewing on a stalk of hay.

"She wants to know why you slept in the barn, too," added Virgil.

Scott elbowed his younger brother in the ribs. The movement wasn't lost on Jeff. So his mother knew he was sleeping in the barn. He never could get anything by his mother he thought with a wry smile. She knew him too well.

"Is your mother up yet?"

Scott shook his head. "She doesn't feel good again so Grandma told us to let her sleep and don't be bothering her."

"She says that goes for you too, Dad," Virgil piped in. Again a poke from Scott coupled with a frown.

Virgil was clearly confused why Scott kept prodding him. "But that's what she said."

Jeff decided he would leave Lucy alone for a while. The words of their argument were still bouncing around in his head and it made him ill to think of it. Surely, she didn't mean what she said. He knew that he didn't mean what came out of his mouth. He said it in anger.

Jumping down from the hay, he brushed himself off before heading up back to the house with his two boys. If the morning was anything to go by, it was going to be a beautiful day. The sky was a deep blue and the sun shone pleasantly, drying the dewy grass and taking off the night time chill that had settled over the landscape only a few hours before. There was a sound of a motor, and Kenny passed by down the driveway on a tractor pulling a windrower.

The table was spread out with all the delicious things that Grandma could make: stacks of pancakes, a platter of bacon and home-grown pork sausages, fluffy scrambled eggs, and of course, homemade cinnamon rolls. Jeff sat down at the table in his usual place. Grandma sat across from her son and grandsons as they ate, watching them with pleasure. Next to her, John sat with a large napkin around his neck as he usually got more of his breakfast on his clothes than he did in his stomach.

When breakfast was over, the ever-industrious woman cleared the table and did the dishes, refusing help from Jeff when he offered. "Just sit there and keep me company," she said.

So he did. They talked about the farm, Grant's plans for the next year, the boys, Lucy's pregnancy, anything but the failed moon mission. She didn't bring it up and neither did he. When the final dish was dry and placed back in the cupboards, Ruth sat down next to her son and patted his arm.

"Now let's talk." Ruth was never one to mince words. She had waited until she was alone with her son to talk seriously. "Are you still going to start the business?"

Jeff leaned back into his chair and sighed. The cuckoo clock on the wall ticked steadily. "Yes, I'm still going to go ahead with the plans that we made."

Ruth nodded. "Good. We...Dad and I...were afraid that you'd stay on with NASA."

Jeff raised an eyebrow at the idea that Grant would be overly afraid of anything having to do with him and his plans for the future. The man was afraid of nothing, except perhaps hailstorms or other things that would affect crop production on the farm. Besides that, father and son had already battled it out over his career choices many years before when the son decided that following the father's footsteps in farming wasn't what he wanted. Grant had long been resigned that Jeff never would or could be a farmer.

"When are you going to start looking for a place close to Wichita?"

"Soon. I've still got some lose strings that I need to tie up in Florida."

"So you're all going back for a while?"

Jeff shifted in the chair. It suddenly felt hard and he wished he could stand up and pace up and down the length of the kitchen. "I'm going to fly back in a few days."

His mother pursed her lips and studied him. "What about Lucy and the boys?"

"I don't think she wants to go back with me." Jeff picked at one of the crocheted checkered placemats on the table. "We had a fight last night."

Ruth nodded. "I thought as much. We could hear you through the open window."

Jeff's face reddened at the thought of his parents hearing them and the words that were meant to be private.

"Dad shut the window," Ruth assured. "We aren't eavesdroppers, son."

Jeff was slightly mollified. "I know that, Ma. I guess we might have been a little louder than we realized. I'm sorry if we woke you up."

Ruth waved her hand. "Never mind that. I know it's not my business but I love you both. Don't you leave without putting things right." She squeezed Jeff's hand with her work-worn one.

"I don't know if I can do that." Jeff met his mother's gaze. It was the first time he had really looked her in the eye since he had come home. She knew him so well that he was afraid she'd see through his defenses and know just how much the mission and Eric's death had shaken him.

"Maybe Lucy's right. Maybe you shouldn't go."

Jeff took a deep breath. "So you did hear last night that I'm going back."

"No," Ruth said. "Lucy told me this morning."

"You're on her side." Jeff folded his arms and frowned.

"Don't be a child, Jefferson. This isn't about sides," his mother chided. "I want what's best for all of you. You, Lucy, and the boys mean everything to me and your father."

"It's only one more mission, Ma," Jeff said, unfolding his arms. "I've got to finish this mission. I can't just leave it undone."

The cuckoo clock struck nine and the little yellow bird popped out from behind the wooden door singing "cuckoo" and bobbing forward nine times. By the time the bird popped back into the clock, Jeff was smiling. It was all so ridiculous, him trying to be serious with the little bird repeating "cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo" in the background.

Ruth shook her head, laughing. "I guess he told you."

"I guess so," Jeff agreed. He let himself laugh and while it felt strange, it also felt good. He continued to smile at his mother. "Look, Ma, I'll be ok, really I will. I'll finish the mission and then I'll be back with my feet on the ground for good."

With one last pat on his arm, Ruth got up. The day's work waited for her and she was eager to start it now that she had her say with her son. "I believe you, son, but I'm not the one who needs convincing."

Jeff tapped on the closed door softly. He held a cup of tea made just the way she liked it as a peace offering. When no one answered, he opened the door and stepped into the room. Lucy lay in bed on her side, facing away from him toward the window. The soft white curtains rolled gently from the soft breeze blowing through the open window. The scent of flowers from the trellis on the side of the house perfumed the air as well as the smell of fresh cut grass.

Jeff hesitated, debating whether or not to disturb her. She looked peaceful curled up in the light cotton blanket with her hair spread out behind her and her one hand resting on the pillow under the side of her face. He decided against waking her up and was turning to leave when she called out to him.

"Don't go." She turned over in the bed. Her brown eyes were tired and red but her face had a calmness and peace as she smiled at him. He came to her and set the cup of tea on the bedside table. She patted on the bed next to her and he sat down on the bed. Leaning against the headboard, he put his arm around her and she moved closer to him. Reaching for his hand, she slowly traced a circle in his palm.

"Are you mad?" she finally asked, looking up searchingly in his eyes.

He shook his head. "Not at you. Just myself. Are you mad?"

"Not now."

Jeff waited, knowing she would continue talking when she was ready. He could hear a tractor off in the distance and the sound of the boys playing down below in the shade of the trees. A bumble bee bounced lazily off the window screen a couple of times and a cicada whirred in a tree top nearby. Jeff listened to the old wind-up clock on the dresser across the room tick steadily. It was the sound of time passing. Life passing. Jeff studied the ceiling. He remembered looking at the same ceiling light many years before.

"Did you ever hear the story of the Girl and the Snake?" Lucy asked. "My Father told me that story the day before we got married."

Jeff raised an eyebrow thinking of Lucy's father. The man had always been an enigma to him. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed native of the small Eastern European country of Moldavia had regarded Jeff with suspicion with at first. Lucy had been the apple of her father's eye and the man had been protective of her. It took a great deal of time before he trusted and accepted Jeff as his son-in-law. "I don't think I know that story," Jeff admitted.

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"Actually I would," Jeff admitted, curious as to why the man would chose that story to tell his daughter before she was married.

Lucy sat up and took a sip of tea. "A young girl walking along a mountain path to her grandmother's house heard a rustle at her feet. Looking down, she saw a snake, and the snake spoke to her. I am about to die, it's too cold for me up here, and I am freezing. There is no food in these mountains, and I am starving. Please put me under your coat and take me with you. No, the girl said to the snake. I know your kind. You are a rattlesnake. And if I pick you up, you will bite me and your bite is poisonous. No, no, the snake said. If you help me, you will be my best friend. I will treat you differently. The young girl sat down on a rock to rest and think things over. She looked at the beautiful markings on the snake and she had to admit he was the most beautiful snake she had ever seen. She said to the snake, I believe you. I will save you. She then reached over, put the snake gently under her coat and continued toward her grandmother's house. Within a moment, she felt a sharp pain in her side. The snake had bitten her. How could you do this to me? she cried. You promised that you would not bite me, and I trusted you! You knew what I was when you picked me up, he hissed as he slithered away." Lucy took another drink from the cup. "That's it. Finis. The end."

Jeff smiled wryly. "So I take it that I was the snake."

Lucy smiled. "Yes, you were the snake. But that wasn't the point of the story."

"What was the point? That your father didn't trust me and thought of me as a poisonous viper ready to strike his only daughter?" It was funny how the parents of all of his earlier girlfriends viewed him with great favor with no effort on his part, yet he had to prove himself over and over before he had won over his father-in-law.

Lucy shook her head. "No, that wasn't it at all. He wanted me to understand that you are who you are and that I wasn't going to change that."

"I think he meant more than that," Jeff replied, bemused.

"My Father thought very highly of you, Jeff. I know you never believed it, but he liked you. Maybe not at first, but later on he did. He told me so himself," she added, seeing the skepticism clearly on his face. "He said you were an honorable man. Honor and loyalty to family meant everything to him."

"You and the boys mean everything to me," Jeff bent down and kissed the top of her head, thinking of how much he loved her. Where would he be without this woman?

"We mean everything to you but you're still going to go on the mission." Lucy stated it without anger. She looked up at him, brown eyes twinkling. "Because you're a snake, I guess."

Jeff wasn't sure how to take her words and hesitated. Lucy pulled him close and kissed him softly. He kissed her back and at that moment he knew without a doubt all was forgiven.

"Just make sure you come back," Lucy whispered. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

Jeff kissed her again. "Don't worry. I'll come back. I'll never leave you. I promise."

Later that afternoon when Ruth returned from her trip to town, she handed Jeff a bundle of mail. "Bernie at the post office gave me this for you." Jeff unsnapped the rubber band around it and looked quickly through it. The mail mostly consisted of bills involving the rental of a warehouse and office space where he and Eric had planned to set up their fledgling business.

He paused over one of the letters addressed to Eric caught his eye. He looked at the return address. _Judge's Investigative Services...Orlando, FL. _Ripping it open, he scanned over the letter inside. It was an invoice for a thousand dollars for services rendered. Jeff thoughtfully refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope. Services for what? he wondered. Why would Eric hire a private investigator? he wondered. He could think of absolutely no reason why his friend would need such a person.

His musings were interrupted by his mother calling to him from the house. "Jeff, you have a call from someone from NASA named Brian Duncan."

Jeff went into Grant's little office off the kitchen to take the call in private. The old vid-phone was small and outdated so when the he turned on the screen there was a line of static directly across the middle of the administrator's face.

"Sorry to interrupt your leave, Colonel." The gray-haired scientist was apologetic.

"No problem," Jeff said, wondering what prompted the man to contact him. He rarely spoke to the assistant administrator. Usually General Austin communicated directly to him, though occasionally Dr. Bolden also contacted him. But Brian Duncan? Never.

"As soon as you come back I need to speak to you," Duncan said. "Privately."

Jeff noticed the beads of sweat on the older man's forehead and the way he kept glancing around him. "About what, if you don't mind telling me?"

"I need to see you in person."

Jeff was about to ask another question but Duncan again spoke, his voice laden with urgency. "Can you be here tomorrow?"

"I wasn't going to leave until..." Jeff began, not happy at the prospect of returning so soon. He wanted at least another day or two to spend with on the farm with his family.

"I need you to be here tomorrow, Colonel." Again, the hasty looks over his shoulder as if he feared some unknown person was listening in to their conversation. "Can you do that for me?"

"If I have to," Jeff said, irritated. "Should I come to your office?"

Duncan shook his head furiously. "No, no. Not here. I'll meet you by the fountain in Memorial Park at noon." With no more farewells or formalities of conversation, the communication cut off and the vid-phone's screen went blank.

Jeff's ire as well as his curiosity was piqued. What did the man want to discuss and why was he acting in such an odd way? As much as he hated to cut his stay short, he had to respond when duty called, even if it was in the form of meeting with an odd character like NASA's assistant administrator.

He stepped out of Grant's office. At least he had the rest of the day to spend with the family. He'd make the best of their time together before heading back to Florida. After all, it was probably the last time he'd see them before the moon mission. He and Lucy already had decided that she and the boys would stay on the farm until he came back.

Jeff wished that for once time would slow down and stop instead of rushing forward to the uncertain future. As much as he assured Lucy that all would work out, there was a part of him that wondered if he would fall to the same fate as his friend and become a victim of the hazards of space. Pushing the dark thoughts away, he headed out into the bright sunshine of the late summer day. Lucy and his boys were waiting for him and he was going to make the best of the time they had together.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was time for Jeff to fly back to Florida . Since he had the meeting the next day at noon, he decided the best thing was to make the flight back that night instead of in the morning. At dinner, Grant was strangely absent from his place at the head of the table. When Ruth had gotten up to get some more corn off the stove, she had leaned over Jeff and whispered in his ear apologetically. "You know how he hates goodbyes."

Jeff nodded. He knew all about hating goodbyes, but it still irked him that Grant wasn't there. If it were _his _son leaving, _he _would make sure he was around to see him off. Determined to not let it ruin his time with the rest of the family, he decided not to think about it.

Despite Grant's absence, dinner was a pleasant time. Lucy sat next to Jeff, smiling and laughing. The boys were happy and Ruth beamed at them all with pride and contentment. After his second piece of pie, Jeff put his fork down and pushed himself away from the table. Stretching, he casually got up from his chair. "I think I'll go for a little walk."

He met Ruth's eye and she gave a nod and a knowing smile.

"Can we go with you, Dad?" Virgil asked, jumping out of his chair eagerly.

"Why don't you boys help Grandma clear the table?" Lucy suggested, as she helped John with his dessert by spearing small pieces of pie then handing the fork over to the young boy.

"Sure, Mom," Scott began collecting silverware and handed a plate to his younger brother. "Here ya go, Virg."

Jeff went out onto the front porch and jumped from the top step to the ground like he had done since he was a young kid. He walked the familiar path to the equipment barn and found the older man with a wrench grasped in oil-covered hands tinkering with a tractor engine set on a few cement blocks to keep it off the ground.

Grant was so immersed in the work that it took him a while to notice Jeff standing in the shadows. He nodded a greeting. "Son."

"Father," Jeff replied. "We missed you at dinner."

Grant set the wrench down in a nearby toolbox and selected another. "I'll eat later. I've got to get the Massey going by next week." He turned back to the engine. "You leaving tonight then?"

"Yes. I've got a meeting tomorrow."

Grant slowly turned around. He picked up a rag and wiped his hands. The two men stood there, both frozen in place with only an awkward silence between them. Not knowing what else to do, Jeff held out his hand. "Goodbye, Father."

Grant shook Jeff's hand, his grip firm and strong. "Take care of yourself, son."

"I will, sir," Jeff answered. The handshake lingered and Grant reached out his other hand and patted his son's arm.

"Be careful up there." Grant's voice faltered. "I've already lost one son. I don't want to lose another."

For the briefest of moments, Jeff could see the pain in Grant's lined face before the wall came up once again. He didn't know what to say to his father. Neither of them ever spoke of the missing member of the family, though they were both haunted by the loss. All these years later and they still walked around the subject as is it was a land mine.

Grant let go of Jeff and turned back to the engine. Without speaking, Jeff turned into the shadows and walked back to the house. There was nothing more the two men could say to each that they didn't already know. Grant retreated into his world, and soon Jeff would be heading off to his own.

Lucy was on the porch swing, waiting for him. John sat across her lap, half-asleep, with his blonde head against her shoulder. Scott and Virgil were still helping in the kitchen; the sound of their childish voices drifted through the screen door into the night.

"I'll put him to bed for you," Jeff offered, gently putting his hand on his youngest son's head.

Lucy smiled and handed the drowsy child over to him. "I'll never say no to some help. Either he's getting heavier or I'm getting weaker."

Jeff took John upstairs and put him to bed. He changed the sleeping child into his pajamas and set him in the little cot in the corner of the room. The moonlight from the window illuminated the little boy's face and Jeff reached down and kissed his forehead.

Out in the hallway, he glanced at his watch. He knew the time was running short and he should go, but leaving his family was always hard, especially now with Eric's death reminding him of his mortality. He went downstairs to the kitchen. Calling the boys over, he knelt down so he was eye-level with them.

"I want you both to help out while I'm gone. There's a lot of work to be done on a farm and you're both old enough to do your fair share. Watch Johnny for your Mother and listen to Grandpa and Grandma."

Scott and Virgil listened solemnly as Jeff spoke. The going-away talk was a serious event and they took their father's words to heart, especially Scott who felt that because he was the oldest, he needed to shoulder most of the responsibility.

"Do you have to go, Dad?" Virgil asked.

"Yes, but I'll be back before you know it."

Scott wasn't satisfied. "What if you die like Uncle Eric?"

"Dad won't die," scoffed Virgil, frowning as he looked up at his older brother. Scott frowned back at him. "He could too die. People die every day, don't they, Dad?"

Both boys looked to their father to settle the conflict. Jeff scratched his chin. "People die every day that's true. " Scott smiled and gave Virgil a told-you-so expression. "But," he continued. "I'm planning on coming back 'alive and kicking' as Grandma always says."

It was Virgil's turn to gloat. He made a face by hooking a finger on each corner of his mouth, and hanging his tongue out. "Blahhhhh."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Kids."

Jeff hugged Virgil and then reached for Scott but the boy stood tall and stuck out his hand. "I'm getting too old for that baby stuff. So long, Dad."

Jeff solemnly shook his son's hand, resisting the urge to smile. "So long, son."

Ruth was waiting for him, her hands twisting in her apron. She hid her worry behind a smile as she reached up and hugged her son. Her words were a soft echo of Grant's. "Be careful up there, son."

"I will, Ma." Jeff kissed his mother on the cheek before walking out of the screen door onto the porch. This was the worst part of all. Saying goodbye to his soul mate. It never got any easier but this time was worse because of everything that had happened, all the words that had been said.

Lucy was waiting for him on the porch swing. He sat next to her and took her hand. "I'm not sure what to say," he admitted, looking at his shoes.

"How about goodbye?" Lucy suggested. He could tell she was trying to be light-hearted and he was grateful.

Jeff grinned. "That's an idea."

"And then I'll tell you to come back to us and then you'll promise you will but we both know that maybe that won't happen." Lucy sighed. "We do this every time you leave so let's just say goodbye and you can call me later when you get in."

He leaned over and kissed her. "I love you, Lucy."

"Goodbye, Jeff." Her voice trembled as she said the words. In the dim twilight, he could see that a tear run down her face. She turned away, discreetly rubbing it away. Guilt stabbed at him, fighting with his sense of duty. Before he could say anything else, she got up and went into the house. The screen door slammed with its usual rusty squeak.

Jeff slowly got to his feet. This time he walked down the porch steps instead of jumping.

Yes, he hated goodbyes because it meant leaving the ones he loved.

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Jeff hated waiting. He was punctual for appointments and had little patience for those who weren't. He glanced at his watch impatiently. He had to meet Brian Duncan in two hours and with the traffic around Orlando he would be hard pressed to get back to the coast on time.

Jeff stood up, his irritation not allowing him to sit, even though the expensive leather chair was comfortable. He paced the length of the office. The carpet was thick and luxurious and muffled the sound of his steps. The walls were decorated with civic awards, education credentials, and personal pictures. It was a typical lawyer's office but Max Carson was anything but typical. Everything about him was larger than life: his car, his houses, his law practice, his family, his extravagant, generous personality, even his oversized, ornate oak desk.

Max's specialty was criminal defense and he was renown as a brilliant trial lawyer. He insisted he only defended "innocent" clients caught in the wheels of the justice system, but it was a known fact in legal circles that he would defend anyone that had enough fame or fortune to make it worth his while. At the same time, he wasn't completely motivated by financial gain. The high-powered attorney took plenty of pro bono cases and gave generously to a variety of charities.

Being a close friend of General Austin, Max also served as a general attorney to many officers in the Space Agency and NASA for a nominal fee. He had requested a meeting with Jeff, as executor of Eric's estate, to go over some details of the will. Normally, Jeff would have had more patience for one of Max's late arrivals but knowing he had another appointment afterwards coupled with the lack of sleep left him on edge. So onward he paced like a soldier on watch, only pausing to look out the window or at a picture on the wall that caught his eye.

One picture in particular intrigued Jeff. Three men stood together on the deck of a yacht, smiling broadly as they proudly held an enormous swordfish lengthways in front of them. He recognized two of the men, one being Max Carson, the other, General Austin, but the third man was unfamiliar. Somehow he seemed out of place next to the other two. It held Jeff's interest as he tried to figure out why. Maybe it was the impressively-detailed tattoos of dragons that covered the man's arms and chest. Perhaps it was the worn clothes and general unkempt air that contrasted strongly with the other two men . It was very much a "which-one-doesn't-belong" kind of picture and it held Jeff's interest each time he passed it .

He was studying the picture again when the door to the office opened and Max Carson bustled in, followed by his young, blonde-haired secretary. "Colonel!" he boomed, beaming at Jeff. "So sorry to keep you waiting. Got caught up in court and couldn't get away." He tossed a leather briefcase onto the desk and soon an expensive silk tie followed. "That's better," the lawyer smiled, undoing the top button of his dress shirt. He rounded the desk, took Jeff's hand and pumped it a few times before slapping him on the back. He then headed to a cabinet on the far side of the room and pulled out a crystal decanter and two glasses. "Want a drink?"

"No thank you, Max," Jeff said, his annoyance dissipating under the gale force wind of friendliness blowing from the lawyer. It was hard to be angry with someone so pleasant and obliging.

"How about some coffee?" Max suggested. "To please me. I hate to drink alone."

Jeff smiled. "Now you're talking."

Max turned to his secretary. "Would you get the Colonel a cup of coffee, please, Shannon?"

The young woman smiled at Jeff. "Of course. How do you take your coffee?"

"Black will be fine, thank you," Jeff said, smiling at her. She blushed as she left.

Max grinned. "She's a fan of yours, you know. If you weren't such an honorable fellow, I know for sure she'd give you her number and probably much more than that if you called her."

Jeff ignored the suggestive comment. There was no woman for him except Lucy and everyone knew that, including the lawyer. Max poured himself a full glass, took a drink, rolled the liquid around in his mouth, and swallowed. Satisfied, he strode over to the desk and sat down. The secretary brought Jeff his coffee, smiling again at him.

Max became all business. Opening a laptop, he slid on a pair of reading glasses, and pulled a file out of a drawer. He instantly became somber. "Bad business this whole thing with Eric." He looked over his glasses at Jeff. "Have you read his will?"

Jeff shook his head. "No. Eric redid it a few months ago, but he never gave me a copy. I do have the old one though."

"He made quite a few changes in his new will."

"Like what?" Jeff asked, curious.

"He set up a trust fund for his daughter with his pension funds, the life insurance money from NASA, and a private life insurance policy in the event of his death. It will equal around five million dollars when all is said and done with the double indemnity clauses in the insurance policies for accidental death. Plus, I plan on filing a workman's compensation case on the girl's behalf. She should come out of this set up very nicely."

Jeff nodded. "That makes sense. He wanted to make sure his wife and daughter were taken care of. He always worried about that."

"Not his wife." Max leaned back in his chair. "He left her eight dollars. One dollar for each year of their marriage." He smiled, showing a flash of white teeth under his graying moustache. "She'll probably contest it and that's her right. I'm looking forward to taking her down a notch or two in court."

"What?!" Jeff couldn't believe what he was hearing. He set down his coffee cup and leaned forward. "That doesn't make any sense. He was...they are.. were," he corrected, "happily married."

Max pursed his lips and continued to look over his glasses at him. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course," Jeff insisted. "We were best friends. He would have told me if he and Melanie were having problems."

"Well, he didn't." Max handed him a paper. "He filed for divorce two days before the launch. In North Carolina," he added, looking very much like the cat who swallowed the canary. "Where he established residency last year...at least in legal terms...since it would be the most suitable place for his kind of divorce."

Jeff leaned back in his chair, shutting his mouth when he became aware he was gaping in amazement. "He never told me any of this."

"He would have," Max offered kindly. "He really cared about what you thought and didn't want you to know until it couldn't be helped."

Jeff thought of Eric. Did he really know him at all? He would never know his motives or why he kept it all secret. Questions that would never be answered. He thought of the letter in his pocket. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled it out and tossed it onto the desk. "Is that what this letter is all about?"

Max took the letter and scanned it quickly. "Yes, that's the private investigator I hired on his behalf."

"To do what?" Jeff wanted to know. He never suspected Eric would go to such lengths to get the upper hand in a divorce, but then he never even suspected that his friend would even get a divorce. Eric and Melanie had been together even before he and Lucy. They had seemed like the perfect couple.

"To get proof of her...ah...indiscretions."

"I don't believe it," Jeff said, frowning. "Melanie would never do anything like that."

Max smiled broadly. "You have a very idealistic view of the world, Colonel. She's not the woman you think she is."

"Then what is she?" Jeff growled. He was getting a headache and his irritability had returned courtesy of the black coffee sloshing around in his empty stomach.

"A cheat, a liar, and a child abuser." Max patted his hand on another file on his desk. "And it's all right in here. Indisputable proof."

"Is this why you wanted me to come today?" Jeff asked. "To tell me this?"

Max nodded. "As a matter of fact, yes. He made me the trustee of his daughter's trust fund and wanted you appointed as her guardian should anything happen to him. I plan on filling a petition to remove her from Melanie's custody."

"Take her away from her mother? I won't be a part of that."

Max opened the file on his desk and thumbed through the contents. Finally, he took out several pictures and slid them over to Jeff. "Tell me if this doesn't change your mind."

Jeff picked up the pictures and looked at them. His face went white, then red, and he glared at Max, outrage and disgust clearly displayed on his face. "How long has this been going on?"

"Those pictures were taken eight months ago. When Eric found out, it stopped, but now that he's gone, who's going to protect the girl? "

Jeff sighed and put his head in his hands. "Do what you have to do, Max."

"I will," Max assured. "I plan on getting temporary custody for you and Lucy, then long-term to Eric's mother."

"Eric's mother is off somewhere in Africa," Jeff said. He felt exhausted from the revelations that Max had shared and disillusioned by the people he thought he knew betraying their public images.

"Zakouma National Park in Chad to be precise. I've already been in touch with her." Max gave him a smile of encouragement as he leaned forward and interlocked his fingers together. He took off his reading glasses and put them in his pocket. "Don't look so glum, Colonel. I'll take care of all of this."

Jeff left the office feeling very tired. He hardly noticed when the attractive secretary again gave a most winning smile as he passed. He glanced at his watch. No doubt about it. He, Jeff Tracy, who was always on time was going to be late, and for once it wasn't the utmost thing on his mind.

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Memorial Park really wasn't a true park at all; rather, it was a stand of trees, flowers, and plaques dedicated to the men and women who had lost their lives while serving in NASA and the Space Agency. Jeff often came there and sat on one of the benches when he needed some quiet or walked the stone paths that weaved in and out in geometric patterns. It was always calming to him and a much favored place for many others.

As he rounded one corner, he saw Brian standing in front of an open area that had been sectioned off with yellow rope and wooden stakes. The older man had his arms folded defensively and his head down. Even from a distance, Jeff could see the habitual frown on his face.

Jeff began to apologize. "I'm sorry I'm late, Brian, I..."

Brian waved the words away. "Never mind, Jeff." A glimmer of a smile threatened to appear. "Just don't make it a habit." He motioned towards the roped-off patch of ground. "This is going to be Eric's spot so any input on your part would be appreciated. We know how close you two were." He shook his head, scowling. "This should not have happened."

Jeff couldn't agree with him more. It shouldn't have happened. Eric shouldn't have a place there among the honored dead. The FLO mission should have been a success. They should both be there starting up the business. He felt a new surge of anger rising through his fatigue. Would've, should've, could've. None of it mattered now.

"Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?" Jeff asked, getting right to the point.

"Hell, no," Brian growled. "I wanted to tell you about the report we got about the LM's reactor failure." He pulled out a PDA and handed it to Jeff. "Just read the last paragraph, the rest is just industry jargon bullshit."

Jeff scrolled down and read the paragraph. "So basically they are attributing this to either human error in adjusting the reactor flow outputs, deliberate or non-deliberate human interference with the reactor's function by one of the crew," Jeff paused, struggling to control the outrage in his voice, "which basically says one of us either sabotaged or accidently broke the reactor, and last but not least, the reactor could have failed because of failures of other instrumentation or systems not manufactured by Cygnus." 

Jeff handed back the PDA to Brian, a dangerous glint in his eye. "So it's all our fault or another company's. Anybody but Cygnus. Who wrote that piece of crap anyway?"

"Who do you think?" Brian snorted. "One of Cygnus' head engineers. A know-it-all smart ass by the name of Davis. But that's not the worse part."

Dark clouds were rolling in from the west and the wind began to pick up, ruffling Jeff's dark brown hair. Brian's frown deepened. "Drat. I didn't bring my umbrella. Figures the moment I set foot outside a cloud comes up."

Jeff hadn't even noticed the darkening of the sky. The day had been full of revelations that he kept turning over and over in his mind and a detail like the weather wasn't worth much consideration in light of everything else. A little rain never hurt anything anyway. He wanted to know what else Brian had to say, even though he dreaded hearing something else disillusioning. "What else can there be?"

"It's all about money," Brian grunted. "The almighty dollar."

"Isn't it always?" Jeff asked. He wasn't cynical by nature but he had seen what greed could drive a person to do.

"Did you know that Austin is getting big money kickbacks for every contract Cygnus gets with the Space Agency? He's been cashing in for years. He has a lot to lose if the reactor was defective because our design team felt it was a flawed design but he pushed it through by bribes and threats. Now he's up to the same thing with the upcoming contracts for the Moonbase. There's billions of money at stake and Cygnus wants to be the primary contractor and supplier for the project and if Austin gets his way, they will be, even though they sacrifice quality and safety to save money."

"How do you know all that that?" Jeff demanded. He trusted in General Austin's integrity and he wouldn't believe such an allegation without proof.

"It's true," Brian insisted, suspiciously he looked around before pulling out an envelope. "I've got the proof on a usb drive. Bank records, emails, phone conversations...I've been collecting it for the last couple years. You have to arm yourself if you want to survive." He handed the envelope to Jeff. "I want you to have it for safe keeping. In case something happens to me. You're the most honest person I know besides Dr. Bolden, but she's like an ostrich with her head in the sand. She sees nothing that she doesn't want to see and she doesn't want to know about any of this."

"Brian..." Jeff began shaking his head. "I've heard a lot of unbelievable things today, things that I'm still not sure I can believe but this tops it all."

"Just look at information on the drive and decide for yourself." Brian glared up at the sky as raindrops began pelting down on them. "I didn't want you going on this next mission flying blind. Not after what happened to Eric. Maybe it wasn't an accident. I don't know but I do know that they'll get rid of anyone that they consider a threat and you're just too honest to not be considered one."

The clouds opened up and the rain began to pour down. Brian turned and joined a few other people scurrying to a small pavilion near the entrance to the Memorial. He called over his shoulder to Jeff. "Just look at that drive and make up your own mind."

Jeff folded the envelope and stuffed into a pocket. He made no effort to move, liking the feeling of the rain pelting down. He wished it would wash away all of the day's conflicts. He had walked into a different world from the one that he had know the day before. It was a world of corruption, lies and betrayal. A world he knew existed but not in such close proximity.

He could hear his mother's words in his mind. _Be true to yourself_. She had said that to him since he was a young boy and he had lived by it. He lived without pretensions or deception and always did what he believed was right and honest. He was a Tracy, after all, wasn't he? Let the rest of the world take the path of least resistance. He wasn't going to do that. Not in his personal life or his professional life either.

Standing straighter and feeling stronger, Jeff faced the wind and the rain. He had the strength to face the storms and he was ready for whatever would come his way.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry for the long time in updating. I've been sick the last week and could barely churn out a couple of paragraphs at a time. Thanks to you who have reviewed for all your support. I truly appreciate it!_

Chapter 8

It was after dark by the time Jeff turned into the driveway. He turned off the ignition and waited until the radio cut off before he grabbed a bundle of mail he had gotten at the post office earlier. Except for the glow of the solar lanterns that lined the walkway, the large stone house was silent and dark.

Jeff fumbled for his keys and found the right one by touch. He was used to coming home in the dark, the only difference this night being Lucy wasn't there to leave the porch light on and wait up for him. No dinner would be waiting to be heated up either. But that was far from the worst part as he could settle for a micro-waved frozen dinner without a problem. No, the worst part is that he was alone in the house and the bright life the activity of his family infused into it was missing. Without them, it was an empty, lifeless place. No boys sneaking out of bed to talk to him about their day and say goodnight. No Lucy. That's what made the house a home. People, not things.

At least he'd be able to talk to Lucy and the boys on the vid-phone. It was a comfort to him knowing he wasn't completely cut off from his family. As he put the key in the door, he saw movement in the corner of his eye. He swung around, half-expecting a sneak attack from his neighbor's large German Shepherd that had the knack of escaping his fenced-in yard late at night. Instead a man stepped out of the shadows.

Jeff squinted in the dim light, then his face hardened when he recognized the familiar features of James Haydyn.

"What do you think you're doing here, James?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Ever hear of calling someone instead of creeping around their house in the middle of the night?"

"You wouldn't answer if I called you," James countered.

"That's true," Jeff admitted. "Just like I'm not going to talk to you now."

James put a hand on Jeff's arm, desperation giving him courage. "All I want is two minutes. Can you give me that?"

Jeff eyed the hand on his arm and stifled the urge to punch the man in the face. If he had been younger, he would have done it, but he had outgrown such outbursts with passing years and advancing ranks. "What can you say that will make any difference? You did what you did and there's no amount of excuses that can change that. You can't talk you way out of the consequences of your actions this time."

James closed his eyes. "Don't you think I already know that? I fucked up and Eric's dead. You think this is easy for me? I have to live with this. He was my friend too, you know. "

Jeff studied the man and he could feel his anger weakening. The three of them, he, Eric, and James had always been close friends from the beginning. Jeff, the natural leader, had stood out from the start and had advanced through the ranks. Eric had followed him a few steps behind as he always did, his brilliance at engineering earning him recognition and promotions. But James...his mercurial personality and impulsiveness clashed with his brilliance as a pilot and his frequent disciplinary actions made him his own worst enemy.

"James..." Jeff began, without his anger to drive him he uncertain what to say. He didn't doubt the sincerity of the man's words and feelings but even so, he would never be able to forget Eric was dead because of his actions.

As if he read Jeff's mind, James spoke. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I'm not going to forgive myself for doing what I did." His voice faltered and Jeff could see the misery etched in the other man's face. He struggled to maintain his composure and again met Jeff's eyes. "I'm here because I just want you to know how sorry I am."

"I know you're sorry," Jeff said. "But you have to answer for what you did. It will probably mean a court-martial and..."

"I resigned today." James folded his arms and turned away.

Jeff couldn't believe what he was hearing. James had been in situations in the past where he was given the chance to resign instead of facing a potential court-martial and he had always steadfastly refused. He was a fighter who always swam upstream and the worse the odds were, the more he fought. It was that quality that resonated in Jeff and had made them friends in the first place.

Jeff patted him on the shoulder. "I think you did the right thing. I really do. You wouldn't want the press to get a hold of the story and pull you through the mud, would you?"

"No. I didn't want to cause anyone any more pain, especially Melanie."

"Melanie?" Jeff asked, frowning when he thought of what he had learned that day about Eric's widow.

James straightened, his natural defiance returning. "Whatever Max Carson told you about her today, it's not true."

Jeff kept his voice neutral, surprised that James knew about the meeting he had with the lawyer. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"You do. I know you met with Max today. He called Melanie to gloat about it." James voice held a note of desperation. "Don't believe what he says about anything. He's not the man you think he is."

"What do you have to do with any of it?" Jeff demanded. He became suspicious when James wouldn't look him in the eye. The younger man shifted his weight from foot to foot and chewed his lip.

"Don't ask me that because I can't tell you." James abruptly turned to walk away in the darkness.

This time Jeff grabbed his arm. "If you know anything, you better spill your guts," he growled.

James pulled away. "Max Carson has a score to settle with Melanie. He got Eric to turn against her and now he's got you in his pocket too."

"I'm not in anyone's pocket," Jeff insisted. "I just want to know the truth."

"No, you don't." James shoved his hands in the pockets of the light jacket he was wearing. "You want the world to be a better place than it really is and people to be basically good." His jaw clenched and his black eyebrows moved into a V as he looked off into the darkness. He half-turned to Jeff, desperation shining in his eyes. "That's not how things really are, Jeff. That's not how people are. You just don't get it and you would never believe the truth."

"Try me." Jeff put his hand on his former friend's shoulder. "Why don't you come inside and we'll talk about this?"

James hesitated but then accepted the invitation with a curt nod. Jeff opened the front door and both men stepped into the house, neither of them knowing there was a set of eyes watching them through infrared binoculars.

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She sat cross-legged out in the wet grass as the sun went down. The sheer material of her night gown didn't protect her from the slight chill in night air that a day of rain had brought. Her hands moved back and forth in the grass, tracing shapes. Her green eyes were unfocused and unseeing and her long, curly copper-colored hair was tangled and knotty.

From a window in the next yard, a pair of elderly eyes behind thick, bottle-like glasses watched with suspicion and concern.. "She's out there again, Ralph." The old woman washed a plate with a soapy dish cloth. There was a grunt from the old man at the table buried behind the latest copy of the Wichita Eagle.

"Did you hear me? She's out there again."

"I heard you," the voice behind the newspaper grumbled. "What do you want me to do about it? It's her yard, ain't it? She's got a right to sit in it, I'm supposin'."

"Someone should call the police." Another dish was scrubbed.

The newspaper rustled. "It's not gonna be you. Mind your own business, Maude."

The old woman dried the dish vigorously with a towel. "She's not right in the head and she's got that little girl."

Still the rumbling behind the paper. "It's not our concern."

The old woman didn't answer as she continued to watch from the window as she washed the dishes. Someone should call, she thought to herself. Maybe later when Ralph went to play bingo and she was home by herself. She looked over her shoulder at the newspaper that surrounded her husband.

Yes, later she would call because as far as _she _was concerned, it washer business.

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"Sit," Jeff pointed to an uncomfortable looking wooden chair that sat by his desk. It was a chair he put his boys in when they needed a talk or a time out. He had led James to his office, preferring to talk in that room as he felt more in his element there.

James sat and his gaze traveled along the walls covered with family photos, Lucy's paintings, and pictures of the moon before coming back to Jeff. "Nice," he said, approving. "Lucy still has the time to paint. I thought she pretty much gave up everything after she married you."

Jeff bristled. "Let's not start down that road. You're here to talk about Max Carson and Melanie, that's it and nothing more."

"That's right," James agreed. "I don't know what Max told you but don't believe it." He reached over and picked up a paperweight from Jeff's desk. It was a clear, hexagonal shape with a miniature space shuttle in the middle of it. "They are all crooked, you know. All of them...Max, the General, Dr. Bolden, Brian Duncan...Eric, too. He got sucked in just like everyone else. Everyone but you and me." He set the paperweight back on the desk.

"I don't think you know half of what you think you do." Jeff leaned back in his chair, keeping his face and voice neutral.

James shrugged. "Maybe, but I know that Max is a sleaze and that he got Eric in on his game. I know that General Austin lines his pockets with bribes and kickbacks." James stopped talking, he picked up the paperweight again and held it in the palm of his hand, turning it in the light so that it reflected prisms along the pictures on the wall. "I know that someone messed with the reactor."

Jeff caught his breath. "How do you know that?"

James sighed and continued to stare at the paperweight. "Because Brian Duncan approached me with a deal and I refused. I guess they found someone else to do it."

"He offered you money to tamper with the lunar module's reactor?" Jeff asked.

"Yes, but not for money. He offered to get rid of Eric."

Jeff's face darkened and his eyes glittered with barely suppressed anger. "I guess you didn't need his help for that to happen. You did that all on your own when you disobeyed my order and launched early."

James met Jeff's eyes. There was no defiance, just regret and deep remorse. "I know you'll never believe me but I really thought I was making the right decision. I never wanted Eric to die. I wasn't thinking about what would happen when I launched, I was thinking about how we were all going to die out there in that damn wasteland..." he stopped talking, struggling to steady his voice. He slammed his fist down on the arm of the chair. "If I could go back and change things I would. If I could take his place I would...you've got to believe me, Jeff."

Jeff didn't answer. He tried to cling to his anger but it eluded him in the light of the heartfelt words he had just heard. Wearily, he rubbed his temples. "I believe you, James. It's just that it doesn't change anything. It still happened and a man is still dead. Your friend."

"I'm going to answer for it," James said. "I'm not trying to get away with anything."

Jeff looked at him suddenly, a question coming into his tired mind. "Why would anyone think you wanted Eric dead? You never explained that."

James set the paperweight down. "Melanie and I...we...you see..."

Jeff closed his eyes and groaned before throwing up his hands. "Why would you do something like that, Jim? She was married to your friend. _Your friend. _Do you have no sense of boundaries or self control at all?"

"It's not like that," James sat forward in the chair. "It's not what you think."

"You've always got a justification for everything you do," Jeff said, severely.

"I'm not trying to justify it, I'm explaining to you how it happened. They were already on the rocks. Eric already cut her loose. He was already planning on getting a divorce..."

Jeff gritted his teeth. "I don't think I can take anymore revelations today. Why don't we finish this conversation tomorrow?"

James seemed relieved as he went along with Jeff's suggestion. "That's fine by me."

Jeff led him to the front door and stifled back a yawn. He hadn't realized just how tired he was after the incredibly stressful, never-ending day. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay? Call me. This time I'll answer."

James nodded, with the smallest of smiles. As he started down the walk, Jeff began to close the door. An explosive bang sent shards of wood flying past Jeff's head. Instinctively, he dropped to the floor. Stunned, he lay there for several moments, confusion changing to a horrific realization. He looked upward at the open door and saw the place where a high-powered bullet had shattered its way through the heavy wood on a journey past his head.

A groan came from the darkness. It had to be James but Jeff couldn't see him from his position on the ground. On his hands and knees, Jeff crawled outside. His mind was racing as he moved. He had no idea which direction the bullet had come from. There had been no sound except the impact into the door. That meant whoever shot it had used a silencer, he decided.

Jeff crawled like snake off the doorstep onto the lawn. The grass was wet and cool. James' lay on the lawn a few feet away. He rolled back and forth, alternating between groaning and cursing softly.

"James," Jeff whispered. "Where'd they get you?"

"My right shoulder. "

"Is it bad?"

"What do you think? If I didn't trip over one of those lantern things on your sidewalk, I'd be pushing up daisies." There was a flurry of cursing in the darkness. "I'll get those bastards."

Jeff was about to move when grass in front of him exploded without warning, showering dirt and pieces of sod down onto him. He rolled quickly to the side and kept rolling until he reached the driveway. Crouching on his knees, he leapt for the safety of his car. Another ping as a bullet ricocheted somewhere off the car. Jeff sat on the ground with his back against the front bumper.

"Don't get yourself shot, Jeff, just hang tight," James said, trying to sound casual and failing. "I called 9-1-1 as soon as I hit the grass."

A siren sounded off in the distance. Within a few minutes, the quiet street was filled with police cars. After listening to Jeff's hurried explanation, some of the officers disappeared into the darkness to search for the unknown assailant. An ambulance soon came, filling the quiet night again with the wail of sirens and more flashing lights.

Jeff stayed with James as the medics loaded him up onto a stretcher and wheeled him hurriedly towards the waiting ambulance.

"Are you friend or family?" asked one of the medics.

"Friend," Jeff answered without hesitation.

"Do you want to ride with us?"

Jeff looked to James for guidance in answering the question. The pale astronaut eye's were shut and he grimaced with pain. Blood was seeping through the heavy gauze that the other medic had secured to the jagged shoulder wound. "Do you want me to come, James?"

"Could you call Melanie and make sure she's alright?" James asked. "She wasn't herself when I talked to her earlier and I'm worried about her. I'll be fine."

"Sure," Jeff assured. "I'll call her."

He watched as the ambulance pulled away. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade, he realized how close he had come to taking a bullet in the head. Just like that, he would be dead and gone. Unless they were trying to get James. Or maybe both of them. Jeff's mind whirled, fatigue and the reminder of his mortality, making it difficult for him to think. One thing he did know, he would drive back into Orlando and stay at a hotel for the night just in case the unknown shooter decided to come back to finish the botched job.

Tomorrow , he would figure things out. After talking to a detective who assured him that they would place James under protective surveillance and refusing an offer for himself of the same, Jeff packed up a duffel bag and headed for his car. He had only two things on his mind, keeping his promise to check on Melanie and calling Lucy. Everything else could wait for the time being.

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Lucy and Ruth sat out on the farmhouse porch as darkness settled over the farm. With dinner over and the dishes cleaned and put away, Ruth had decided to take a few minutes to sit and enjoy the company of her daughter-in-law. Late summer was such a busy time of year that she rarely indulged in such a luxury, but with Jeff gone, she could tell that Lucy was heart sore and lonely, and she did everything she could to support and distract the young woman she thought of as her own daughter.

With Scott and Virgil off helping Grant with chores that had been pushed back because of the start of harvesting, and young John already in bed, it was relatively quiet except for the usual night insects chattering and the distant lowing of the cattle as they anticipated their dinner. The two women sat in companionable silence. Even at rest, Ruth's hands were busy snapping off the ends of green beans in preparation for another marathon of canning the next day.

Ruth was the first to break the silence. "We're so glad that you and the boys are staying with us, Honey."

Lucy looked up from a charcoal drawing she was working on and smiled. "We love it here. You've been so good to us...I don't know what we would do without you and Grant."

Getting up to go to the kitchen for more beans, she stopped in front of Lucy and brushed a strand of hair out of the younger woman's face. "You're family and we love you," Ruth said simply, smiling at her.

Lucy squeezed Ruth's work worn hand with her smooth, charcoal-covered one. They sat talking on the porch as the stars winked out as dark clouds rolled overhead. A cool breeze began to pick up, making the wind chimes hanging along the porch tinkle and ring as they swayed. Lighting flashed far off in the distance.

Grant and the boys came trudging in from the barn. Ruth eyed their dirty boots and pointed to a mat near the screen door. "Off with those boots, all of you, before you go in the house." Scott and Virgil obeyed instantly and shed the offensive footwear and followed Lucy into the house to get washed and changed for bed.

Grant stood on the porch watching the lightning dance along the horizon. With a pan of beans in one hand, Ruth stood beside him. Affectionately, Grant wrapped an arm around her. "Looks like a storm is blowing in, Ruthie."

Ruth smiled up at him and returned the embrace with her free arm. "I think the worst of it's going to pass us this time."

Grant scanned the sky again before passing judgment. "Yep, this time I think we're going to be lucky."

As a few large raindrops fell from the sky, the couple turned to go into the house. Ruth pointed to the mat where two small pairs of barn boots lay scattered. "You, too, for the sake of my clean floors," she scolded fondly, playfully poking the ribs of the man she had loved for close to four decades. Grumbling good-naturedly, Grant shed his dirt-encrusted heavy work boots. "Only for you, Ruthie."

Arm in arm, husband and wife went inside as the heavens opened and the rain poured down.

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The little girl pushed open the closet door a crack. The door hinges squeaked and she held her breath, waiting to see if the noise was noticed. Mama had a headache and, Cricket, as the little girl was called, had been banished to the closet as punishment for being too noisy. She wasn't supposed to come until she was told she could. That had been a long, long time ago when the faintest amount of sunlight had peeked through the drawn blinds of the little bedroom. Now it was dark outside and inside the house and Mama had never come back to get her.

She hated the closet with the moving boxes that had never been unpacked, piles of dirty clothes, and the hard wooden floor. There was nothing to do and it was very dark and quiet. Worst of all, there were spider webs high up in the corners and where there were webs there were spiders. She was afraid they would come down and bite her. Her imagination turned the small, harmless creatures into great bloodsucking monsters worthy of a midnight horror show. She always begged Mama not to make her stay in there but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Usually, her banishment only last fifteen or twenty minutes, but this time was different. Cricket waited and waited as the day wore on.

The child peeked out of the closet. Everything was quiet and dark in her room. She wasn't afraid of the dark but she was afraid of being alone. Where was Mama? Why didn't she ever come back? Bravery taking hold, she pushed open the door far enough so she could slip out. She was hungry and had to go to the bathroom and those two things along with the fear of her mother being gone prompted her to sneak out of her room and down the hallway. Guided by the dim light from a small bedside lamp, she crawled into her mother's room until she reached the bed. A quick check of the messy blankets and sheets revealed that room was also empty.

No Mama.

She cautiously went over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer. There it was. Daddy's flag, neatly folded alongside his shirts. Mama would be angry if she found out that she took Daddy's flag out again. No matter how much Cricket begged and promised she would be careful with it, Mama refused to let her see it. The flag had to stay in the drawer with Daddy's clothes. She stroked the material and picked it up, smiling. Holding it against her cheek, she closed her eyes and whispered. "I love you, Daddy."

She sat cross-legged on the floor with the flag on her lap, talking to her father as if he were there with her. She poured out all of her childish fears to him; the spiders in the closet, the strange way Mama was acting, and the neighbor's big black dog that always showed his teeth at her when she played in the back yard. Cricket hugged the flag to her, longing for her father. She knew that if he was there, things would be different. Mama wouldn't be sad, the spiders and the black dog wouldn't get her, and she wouldn't have to be afraid of being alone. "Where are you, Daddy? When are you coming back? Please, please come back. I miss you so much," she whispered into the flag, knowing that he heard her, no matter where he was.

Reluctantly, Cricket set the flag back in the drawer. She still had to find Mama and then she was going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She went down the stairs, one step at a time, holding on to the railing to guide her in the darkness. She was afraid to turn on the hall light without permission. Mama liked the darkness at night. She said it made her feel like it was all a dream. Cricket wasn't sure what that meant or why Mama would want to dream but she accepted it. So she left the lights and made her way the best she could.

Cricket silently moved through the rooms downstairs, her bare feet making no noise on the thick carpet. Like a small ghost, the four-year old girl drifted through the house, searching for her missing parent. Stopping in the kitchen, hunger drove her to search for something to eat. There was no bread left, but plenty of peanut butter and jelly, so getting a bowl, she took several spoonfuls of each and sat at the kitchen table and began to eat. The mixture tasted better on bread, she decided, but it was better than nothing.

The vid-phone rang, breaking the silence. Startled by the noise, Cricket jumped and dropped her spoon with a clatter. She listened to it ring, wondering if she should answer it. Finally, she dragged over a chair and climbed on top of it, so she could reach the communication device. Hesitating, she pushed the blinking light to answer.

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Jeff's frustration grew as waited for Melanie to answer. He had checked into the hotel, jumped into the shower, and changed into a t-shirt and jeans. Settling down, he had called the hospital to check on James' condition first and now he was making the promised call to Melanie. He still wanted to call Lucy before it got too late. Only after he connected with her would he finally catch a few hours of much needed sleep.

Refusing to give up on the call, he let it ring a dozen times. Finally, the screen flashed as someone answered and a small face appeared in the screen. The dark blue eyes that looked shyly at him were so like Eric's that it startled him. The little girl smiled when she recognized him. "Uncle Jeff!"

"Cricket!" Jeff said. "Where's your mother?"

"I don't know. I can't find her." Cricket's voice wavered, just like his boys did when they were upset but trying to be brave.

"When did you see her last?" Jeff asked.

"This morning when I was bad and had to go in the closet."

A shadow crossed Jeff's face as he thought of the pictures he had seen in Max's office and what the lawyer had said about the little girl suffering at the hands of her mother. "I want you to stay right there. Do you understand, Cricket? Stay right there. I'll call you back in a minute."

" 'kay," Cricket said, happy that she wasn't alone now, even if the person was not really there, but only on the screen of the phone. Jeff's face faded from view as he disconnected the call and Cricket sat down on the chair, swinging her legs back and forth happily as she waited for him to call back. Her faith in her "Uncle" Jeff was as strong as her father's had been. He wouldn't let her down.

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The first thing Jeff did when he disconnected was to place a call to the local police department back in Kansas. The dispatcher he talked to seemed bored with his report. "We already got a call tonight about that address and sent officers out for a welfare check. There was no one home."

"Then they need to go back because I just talked to the four year old daughter of Melanie Crawford who is apparently missing," Jeff growled, his impatience with the dispatcher getting the better of his innate courtesy.

"Okay, okay, Bud. Just relax," the dispatcher grumbled. "I'll send someone out that way as soon as possible."

"Now," Jeff ordered, his voice taking on the tone he used with the men under his command.

"Now," the dispatcher relented, despite his skepticism.

Pleased, Jeff ended the call and called Cricket back. Expecting her to answer right away, he was surprised when the screen continued to flash 'Please Wait.' Surprise turned to frustration then worry as he tried to place the call again with the same results.

Jeff considered his options. He could call the dispatcher back, although he doubted that he would get any better results out of the man than were already in motion, though perhaps they would make more haste if they knew he had lost contact with the young girl. Yes, he would call. He began to type in the number, when a knock on the door made him stop in mid-motion. Warily, he got up and quietly went to the duffel bag he had brought with him. He carefully pulled out the semi-automatic Beretta he had owned since his early Air Force days. When he had taken it from his safe at home, he had already loaded the clip since he knew with certainty there was no chance his young sons would come into contact with the firearm.

With the weapon drawn and the safety off, he approached the door. Another knock, this time more urgently. Jeff took a deep breath, steadying himself. As much as he hated to hurt another human being, he was prepared to defend himself if it came to that. This time he was prepared unlike when he was a sitting duck at the front door of his house a few hours earlier.

Another knock and Jeff leaned forward to look through the peephole on the door. He was ready for whoever was on the other side, whether it was friend or foe.


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